For the next week, the men thought and talked about the invitation as they paddled down the rivers. By the time they arrived back at Shandia, twenty-one days after setting out, they had a plan.
Jim took Betty aside to explain it to her. “As we see it, we’ve already invested a lot of work here in Shandia. The Indians know and trust us, and we shouldn’t give that up. It makes sense for Ed and Marilou to move here, especially since they don’t know the language yet and the Indians here are used to having a missionary around. Of course, Ed will need either Pete or me to stay with him, at least until he knows enough of the Quichua language to get by.”
Betty nodded.
Jim continued. “We also think Atanasio’s invitation is a sign from God that we should begin a station down there, too. It would take two people to start the station. The sensible thing would be for Pete to stay here with Ed and Marilou and for me to start the new station. But I’ll need a partner. So…” Jim drew in a deep breath, “…how soon will you marry me?”
October 8, 1953, was Jim’s twenty-sixth birthday. It was also his wedding day. Neither he nor Betty had wanted the usual wedding, with bridesmaids, cake, and bouquets of flowers. The ceremony was performed at the Registro Civil, an old colonial building in the heart of Quito. Dr. Tidmarsh, his wife, and Ed and Marilou McCully were the only witnesses. The whole event took less than ten minutes!
The new Mr. and Mrs. Elliot flew to Panama for their honeymoon and then on to Costa Rica, where they dropped in on Betty’s brother Dave and his wife Phyl, who were missionaries there. Both Jim and Betty enjoyed surprising them. Dave and Phyl were certainly surprised—especially when they found out that Jim and Betty were married.
Once back in Quito, Jim and Betty directed their energy toward preparing to set up a new mission station at Puyupungu, as Atanasio’s little clearing was called. Many of the supplies Jim had originally brought with him from the United States had never been unpacked. They hadn’t yet been needed and so were still stored safely away at the Gospel Missionary Union compound in Quito.
Almost like opening wedding presents, the newlyweds rummaged through the collection of things looking for anything useful. They found several aluminum pans and containers, an assortment of garden tools, and a tiny portable stove, all of which would certainly be of use in setting up a new home. They packed the items carefully into boxes that had been lined with thick, waterproof paper.
Soon, all the arrangements had been made, and the young couple were on their way to their first home. Jim and Betty caught the bus to Shell Mera, where they stayed the night. The following morning, Nate Saint drove them to the end of the road that led in the direction of Puyupungu. The road ended abruptly at the river. They all piled out of the pickup, and Jim squinted into the morning sun, searching for the canoes he’d arranged to have meet them and take them downriver. A wave of relief swept over him when he spotted them waiting on the far side.
After the Indians had paddled across the river, the group began loading the Elliots’ belongings into the canoes. A folding bed, a steel trunk, the boxes, and a tent were all expertly balanced in the center of the canoes. With a wave from Nate Saint, Jim, Betty, and their Indian friends were on their way down the muddy river.
About halfway to their destination, a group of Quichua Indians from Puyupungu had paddled upstream to meet them and escort them to their new home. As the canoes were pulled onto the beach, Jim smiled. Once again, he’d caught a glimpse of a small brown face eyeing him from the bushes. He squeezed Betty’s hand and pointed to a little girl who quickly disappeared into the undergrowth.
Atanasio came out of his hut to meet Jim and Betty Elliot as though he were a king welcoming important people into his realm. He waved his hand toward a hut—a small bamboo structure with a thatched roof. “It is for you,” he said grandly. Jim smiled and thanked him. With all the other things he and Betty had to do, it was a relief to know they wouldn’t have to worry about housing.
An hour later, Jim and Betty’s belongings were piled inside the quaint home. Atanasio’s wives and some of the braver children took turns peeking through the doorway to see what was going on inside. Then something happened that Jim hadn’t expected: gifts began to arrive. One Indian brought a bunch of plantains, another brought smoked fish wrapped in a banana leaf, and yet another carried in a pile of firewood and two papayas. The new couple now had their dinner, but more than that, they had a sign they were really welcome. They were among friends.
Everything seemed perfect as Jim and Betty went to bed that first night. The couple had plenty of food, friendly neighbors, and a roof over their heads. It was, however, the roof that proved to be a problem. For one thing, it was too low for these Americans to stand up straight under. After all, they were both about a foot taller than the average Indian. But they had expected that. What they hadn’t expected was to be rained on by cockroaches. As the night progressed, hundreds of roaches dropped from the thatched roof onto the two of them. Jim could feel Betty shuddering beside him as she flicked the bugs off.
After a sleepless night, Jim and Betty decided to leave the hut to the roaches. They pitched their sixteen-foot-long tent nearby. The tent had no floor, and anything touching the sides got wet when it rained. But it was roach free! And not only that, the two of them could stand up in it.
Once they had arranged the tent, they were ready to begin their new life together at Puyupungu and face whatever the future held for them.
Chapter 10
Outstations
Puyupungu to Shell Mera. Come in Shell Mera. Over.” Jim was only vaguely aware of Betty at the radio, but he could make out anxiety in her voice. Betty repeated the message several times. Jim couldn’t focus long enough to hear what else his wife was saying on the radio. His head hurt too much, and he didn’t have the energy to open his eyes. He drifted from consciousness.
When he finally regained consciousness, Jim was surprised to learn that three weeks had passed since he’d gone to bed with a headache! Betty was sitting on a canvas campstool beside his bed. As she mopped his forehead with a damp cloth, she told him about the past three weeks. Jim’s temperature had risen to 104 degrees Fahrenheit, and Betty had become concerned. After many frustrating attempts on the radio, she’d managed to get a weak connection to Marj Saint at Shell Mera. Even though Marj was a nurse, she hadn’t been much help. Apart from recommending antimalaria drugs, which Betty was already giving him, she could not think of what the problem might be. It sounded like malaria, but she just wasn’t sure. Jim was too sick to be moved to Shell Mera by canoe, and there was no airstrip anywhere nearby for a plane to land. Without further options, Betty had continued to pray for Jim.
As Betty had struggled alone to take care of her husband, she’d also had to contend with the thick mud that now made up the floor of the tent, not to mention the curious Quichuas, who came by every hour to ask her questions about Jim’s illness that she had no answers to. Anxiously she had waited, not knowing whether Jim was going to live or die.
Another week passed before Jim felt strong enough to get out of bed. Wobbly at first, he took several more days to regain his strength. However, lying in bed had given Jim time to plan out the projects he intended to complete as soon as he was well enough. First he would build a schoolhouse and fulfill his promise to Atanasio. Then he would hack an airstrip from the jungle. His illness, whatever it had been, had reminded him how vital it was for him and Betty and Atanasio’s family to have a quick way in and out of Puyupungu for emergencies.
Jim and Betty continued to learn the Quichua language. Jim had a substantial head start on Betty and was already able to hold interesting conversations with Atanasio and his family.
Although the Elliots were the only missionaries at Puyupungu, they never forgot that they were part of a pioneering team that included the McCullys and Pete Fleming. Each morning, they cranked up the radio to report in to Shell Mera and to hear news from the other missionaries in the area.
Jim and Betty were delighted to hear about the progress Pete was making rebuilding the McCullys’ new home at Shandia. The roof was on, and Pete had just about finished cladding the walls. Although the house was not as big as the one they’d torn down during the flood, Pete was nonetheless proud of his workmanship, and he worked as fast as he could to finish the house. Besides wanting the McCullys to move down from Quito as soon as possible, Pete had another reason for finishing the house quickly. After the McCullys were settled in at Shandia, he planned to return to Seattle and marry his childhood sweetheart, Olive Ainslie. Jim and Betty’s marriage had convinced Pete that there was a place for married missionary couples in the jungle of the Oriente.
By mid-December 1953, the McCullys were settled in their new house and Pete was making final preparations to return to the United States for several months. Since Jim and Betty were anxious to meet with everyone in Shandia before Pete left, they decided to visit Shandia for Christmas. However, a nine-hour trek along overgrown jungle trails lay between Puyupungu and the village of Puyo, where the road started and where they would meet Marj Saint. Marj had agreed to drive them to Shell Mera, where they would spend the night, and Nate Saint would fly them to Shandia the next morning.
Jim hired a young Quichua man to be their guide. Early on the morning of December 18, they set out. The trail was even more overgrown than they had been told. Jim and the guide had to stop frequently to hack away at vines and fallen branches. In the Amazon jungle, the Indians always make their trails on the highest ground so that the routes are still passable during the rainy season. Jim and Betty soon came to understand that this meant they would be climbing every hill on the way to Puyo rather than taking the low road around them.
As they marched in single file, Jim reminded Betty that they were on an adventure. They were probably the only white people to have walked this trail. With huge air plants dangling from the tops of the trees, some with leaves two or three feet wide, and with the constant backdrop of noise from monkeys, croaking tree frogs, and squawking parrots, it was easy to imagine they were back in prehistoric times. The exotic jungle surrounded them with natural beauty.
After five hours on the trail, the reality of the difficult journey began to sink in. Jim’s back hurt from constantly bending over to climb under tree limbs. His hands were blistered from swinging the machete, and his feet hurt from the constant rubbing of his shoes.
Finally, when the dense jungle gave way to fields of sugarcane, Jim knew they must be close to Puyo. Sure enough, as they followed the path around the cane fields, they found Marj Saint waiting for them in a pickup truck.
Jim and Betty greeted Marj warmly. As usual, Marj had thought of everything. Cold drinks and thick slices of chocolate cake were waiting in a picnic basket. Nothing had tasted so good to the weary travelers in a long time.
Jim and Betty shared some of the cake with their guide, who then trotted off across the cane fields back towards Puyupungu. Jim swung their backpacks into the rear of the pickup, and the three of them were off to Shell Mera. It was certainly good to be riding instead of walking.
The next morning Jim and Betty arrived at Shandia, where they had a joyous reunion with the McCullys and Pete. Everyone had a lot of news to catch up on and a lot more planning to do. Pete and Ed told Jim about the growing interest in Christianity among the Indians around Shandia. Several of the Indians were taking part in regular Bible studies and were asking many questions. This excited Jim, who all along had thought that the role of a foreign missionary was to convert and train local people so that they could then reach out to members of their own tribe with the gospel message. Now it looked as though that strategy was becoming a possibility.
